All ye that love the Lord re­joice,
And let your songs be new;
Amidst the church with cheer­ful voice
His lat­er won­ders show.

The Jews, the peo­ple of His grace,
Shall their Re­deem­er sing;
And Gen­tile na­tions join the praise
While Si­on owns her king.

The Lord takes plea­sure in the just,
Whom sin­ners treat with scorn;
The meek that lie des­pised in dust
Salvation shall adorn.

Saints should be joy­ful in their king,
E’en on a dy­ing bed;
And like the souls in glo­ry sing,
For God shall raise the dead.

Then His high praise shall fill their tongues,
Their hands shall wield the sword;
And ven­geance shall at­tend their songs,
The ven­geance of the Lord.

When Christ His judg­ment seat as­cends,
And bids the world ap­pear,
Thrones are pre­pared for all His friends
Who hum­bly loved Him here.

Then shall they rule with ir­on rod
Nations that dared re­bel;
And join the sen­tence of their God
On ty­rants doomed to hell.

The roy­al sin­ners bound in chains
New tri­umphs shall af­ford:
Such hon­or for the saints re­mains:
Praise ye, and love the Lord.